


Kiss Me

by Spacecadet72



Series: Revelations [1]
Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 17:19:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3617937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacecadet72/pseuds/Spacecadet72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of her life, Abigail returns to say goodbye and Henry finds himself caught up in the moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Me

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://darklyndsea.tumblr.com/post/110144240924/i-just-want-to-read-a-long-and-plotty-henry-iona>this</a>%20post%20on%20tumblr.) post on tumblr.

"I see you’re still taking your tea the same way." 

Henry froze, tea cup still halfway to his mouth. The voice was a little older, a little shakier than he remembered, but that didn't mean he didn't recognize it instantly. 

He looked up, and he felt his breath catch. "Abigail," was all he could get out as he rose from his chair automatically. She was still beautiful, still so elegant, even if she looked every one of her 94 years. 

She smiled, a little tremulously, and if he thought he had been ready to move on, it all crumbled at the sight of her standing in front of him. They stood in silence for a few beats before he remembered himself.

"Would you like to sit?" he asked, and he was almost surprised by how nervous he was as he gestured towards the sofa. 

She nodded and moved towards him. Her steps were slower, more of a shuffle, really, and even as the reminder of her mortality sent a pang of sorrow through him, it couldn't outweigh the fact that she was still alive, that she was still here. 

He joined her on the sofa. 

“How have you been?” he asked, and he cringed at how awkward and stilted he sounded. 

She smiled, knowingly. “I’ve been fine. I traveled for a while.” She looked around the shop for a moment. “I see you’ve found a place for your history.”

Henry nodded, but suddenly couldn’t make his mouth work, couldn’t really believe that she was here. How could any of this be real? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he had imagined her. Except, usually, he saw ghosts of her in her prime, when they had been happy. Before his curse began to slowly poison things. 

“Why are you here?” he finally managed to choke out, and he regretted it as soon as it came out of his mouth. He didn’t want anything to wreck this moment, awkward and halting as it was. If he didn’t say anything to ruin it, he could keep pretending it was real. 

She looked down at her hands as they lay in her lap. The loose and wrinkled skin looked soft, a process that had started even before she left 30 years ago. A process he had willfully ignored. 

“I don’t have long, and I wanted...I needed to say goodbye.” she looked back up at him, her eyes wet. 

“You shouldn’t have left. It would have been fine. We would have found some way to work it out.” he said, his tone desperate, and his eyes watering, as he tried to find some solution that could have saved them. He’d tried for the past 30 years and still hadn’t found one. 

“You and I both know that isn’t true.” she said gently, but with the same firmness as always. “We would have come to resent each other for it.” 

“I wouldn’t…” he began, but stopped when she rested her hand on his arm. 

“I would have.” she said simply. 

Henry felt a tear roll down his cheek. “I’ve missed you.” 

She moved her hand up to cup his cheek. He leaned into it, his eyes closing. “So have I. I almost couldn’t leave, but I knew that was the closest we would get to a happy ending. Besides,” she said a forced lightness in her tone. “we lived a good life. A full life together, which is more than can be said for so many others.” 

He opened his eyes, and the tears flowed freely now. “I can’t--” he started, his voice thick. “I can’t do this again.” 

“I shouldn’t have come.” she said frowning as she pulled her hand away and moved to stand up. 

He couldn’t let her leave again. He needed to feel that closeness they’d had, even if it was only for this moment. He surged forward, placed his hands on her face, and pressed his lips gently to hers. 

It took her a moment to respond, but when she did, she moved into the kiss and brought her arms around his neck. It wasn’t exactly how it used to be, they’d both changed, in different ways, but it felt like coming home.  
\-------

Jo walked up to the antique shop, her mind on their current case, a murder in a locked room--and she had thought Henry was going to faint from giddiness when they had reached that crime scene. 

She looked up just as she reached for the door handle, but she didn't move to open the door. She could only stand there, her jaw open and brain not quite connecting as she watched Henry move forward, his face full of emotions she couldn’t even begin to decipher and kiss the elderly woman sitting next to him on the couch. And this wasn’t some, polite kiss on the cheek you gave your Grandma at Christmas. His hands were on her face and her arms had moved up to twine around his neck and--oh, they were really starting to go at it. 

She stood, torn for a moment, still too shocked to know whether she should leave or make herself known. If she could see them from the sidewalk, then anyone, including potential customers, could see or walk in. 

Finally deciding that she couldn’t just leave, but knowing that she was not prepared to go in there without backup, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed quickly. 

“Hey, Abe.” she began once he had picked up. “I need your help.”  
\-----

“Jo?” Henry said as the bell above the shop door jingled and he pulled back from the kiss. 

Abe had from upstairs and was standing, stunned, in the the middle of the shop. “Mom?”

Abigail glanced up at Jo before her gaze turned to Abe. Her hand rose to her mouth, and she rose slowly from her spot on the couch. Abe seemed to get past his shock and walked over to her, pulling her into a hug. “What are you doing here?” 

Abigail held him tightly. “I needed to see you both before…”

“Henry, what the hell is going on?” 

Henry turned from watching his wife and son reunite to face Jo.  
“I can...that is…” he floundered, trying to find the words to explain just what she had seen. 

“Henry.” Abe’s voice cut through his shock. “Tell her.” 

“Tell me what?” Jo demanded, and Henry felt pulled in so many different directions. 

He looked at Abigail, and she was looking at their son with a questioning look. Abe nodded once, and then she turned to meet Henry’s gaze. She remained silent, but he could see everything she didn’t say. _It’s alright. You can have another secret keeper. You need one._

"Abigail..."

"Wait, this is Abigail? And Abe is her son?" Jo asked in disbelief. 

Henry opened his mouth to tell her a lie even if he knew she wouldn’t buy it. He tried to think of something shocking to get her away from the truth. He looked over at his family, together again and he couldn't. Not like this. Not to Jo.

"Actually," He said, taking in a deep, shaky breath. "He's our son."

"Well, I'm adopted." Abe added from where he was still standing with Abigail. 

"What, when you were 40?" Jo asked, a harsh and hysterical edge to her voice. 

Henry met Abigail's eyes and and took courage in what he saw there. Sometimes it's good to be rash.

"No, when he was a baby in 1945."

"Henry, this isn't funny." Jo said, the lines of her body tense. She looked like she was caught between fight or flight. 

Abigail stepped forward to stand next to him. "It's true. We met at the end of the second world war. Abe had been found in a concentration camp and we adopted him." Her delivery was simple, her tone clear and firm.

Jo looked back and forth between the three of them, mouth open and brow furrowed. "That's not possible."

Henry slipped his hand into Abigail's. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze for reassurance. 

"You may want to sit down for this." Henry said, his words slow and serious. 

"I'll make tea." Abe said from behind them before heading to the kitchen. 

Jo sat down slowly, not taking her eyes off of Henry or Abigail. 

"I was born in 1779…”


End file.
